


Ace

by Amethystfairy1



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dating, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Reader-Insert, Tennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 08:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethystfairy1/pseuds/Amethystfairy1
Summary: You weren't sure exactly what anyone saw in this annoying idiot who stopped by the tennis courts every day while you were out serving after practice. He seems to be rather fixated on getting your attention, perhaps, you reasoned, because you might be the first girl in your school to deny him of it. Then again, two years after the fact, you're pretty happy he kept showing up, considering you're now dating, and as captains of the volleyball and tennis team, respectively, have become something of a sports club power couple. Even if he's a headache most times, after injury and heartbreak, he's there for you, and you can't help but smile again because of that. Most times, thats all you ever need.





	Ace

**Author's Note:**

> So this is one of my older fics, from my old FF.net profile, and it's one of the ones I really wanted to bring over here. It was one of my first oneshots, and despite being from a time before I was a more experienced writer, I wanted to put it over here to ensure it would be on both my profiles. Just so you're aware, I play tennis personally, and if you read my stories you'll know I'm pretty serious about it.  
> Anywho, please enjoy! :D

You smiled as you looked around the tournament venue. It was your last chance push your team to nationals. As a third year and the number 1 player and captain of your team, you wanted this more then anyone. The last match that would have qualified you for nationals was lost in a tight three setter by your number 2 player, with two tiebreak sets. You gritted your teeth at the thought that just a few more errors on your opponents part would have you celebrating instead of standing here.

Basically, you needed to win at least one of the top three lines to make it to nationals. You were not going to fail. As the number 1 player you were one of the three that had the chance.

And now you were in the finals.

Your 2 and 3 players had lost in the semis, and you'd comforted them after sweeping a straight set victory of your own.

You were the last chance, all your other lines were either eliminated or to low to gain you enough points. But the win on line 1 would be enough, just enough, to pull you through.

It came down to this match.

You could feel the pressure, but your friends and teammates all said that was when you played the best. Swallowing hard, you made for the check in desk. You placed in your name for the Aoba Johsai tennis team, and stood to the side doing warm up exercises. You were wearing your schools tennis uniform, a comfortable sports dress with light blue stripes. You wore your own lucky blue visor, which was a must for you. You listened for your name as you stretched, allowing your mind to run off with you for a moment.

The boys on the volleyball team had a match today, but it was no big deal, the volleyball team didn't have their make or break matches until nearly a month from then, it was merely a warm up tournament.

Your boyfriend was the captain of the volleyball team. You'd met him when he had wandered by the courts to find you practicing serves.

As you lingered your gaze around the tournament desk area, you thought back to that time, when you'd been a first year on the team, working in an attempt to get onto the first string. Not even imagining one day you'd be deciding the string members yourself, as captain, a short two years into the future.

_**Two years ago.** _

You grunted as you swung your racquet upward, making contact with the ball and sending it gracefully to the other side of the net. You huffed in annoyance. While your serve was good, you were irritated by it's lack of speed. You wanted it to be stronger. Reaching for another ball, you resumed your practice.

As you landed after a fairly acceptable serve, considering even taking a water break, a chipper voice reached your ears.

"Yoohoo! Cutie! Don't go overexerting yourself!"

You glanced back in confusion, and were mildly surprised to see some guy wearing a jacket that proclaimed him a member of the volleyball team standing by the side fence, which was waist high. He was casually leaning on it, sports bag slung over his shoulder.

"This is nothing." You scoffed.

It truly was. Compared to the rest of your brutal practices, sprinting down balls, playing for hours with only a few minutes of rest every here and there. You found staying back to serve at the end, just as the sun was staring to set and the night was starting to cool, rather relaxing. As well as majorly beneficial to your game.

"Alright, alright, well don't go pushing yourself to hard." He teased lightly.

"Do I know you?" You responded coldly.

He clutched at his heart dramatically.

"I'm shocked! How could you not recognize the newest, most wonderful addition to our already prestigious volleyball team?"

"I've never set foot on a volleyball court in my life." You deadpanned.

"You haven't _lived_!" The guy protested.

You raised an eyebrow, "Have you ever hit a tennis ball with a tennis racquet before?"

A humiliated silence.

"That's what I thought." You snarked.

"Fine then!" He pouted, before he turned and stalked off.

You stared after him skeptically.

_Just what on earth was that about?_

**_The next day._ **

You stayed behind to practice serves, just as always, when you heard stomping footsteps approach the court. Ignoring them, you leapt up and smashed the ball that you'd just tossed down into the net.

"Tch." You clicked your tongue in frustration, your serve wasn't working with you today.

"Sounds like you're struggling."

"Why are you back?" You demanded as you spun on your heel to see the same boy from before.

"Because I'm madly in love." He replied with a straight face.

You stared at him for a few moments.

"Why is that my problem?"

"So mean!"

"I don't even know who you are!"

"Now you do!" He declared even as he placed a palm to his chest.

"I'm Oikawa Tooru!"

"Good for you, buddy." You grumbled as you picked up your basket with the intent of picking up all your balls. You were done for the day. Stressing over an uncooperative serve made absolutely zero sense. Not to mention this strange, attractive, mostly annoying brunette was insisting on bugging you.

"Why are you so rude?" He whined in a high pitched voice.

Rolling your eyes, you grudgingly introduced yourself before turning back to your currently task.

It wasn't until you heard the familiar clang of the shaking chain link fence that you realized Oikawa had vaulted over to help you.

"Why are you still here?" You countered.

"I already told you my reasons!" He exclaimed with a smile.

Shaking your head, you gave up, allowing him to help with your clean up.

As you were heading off court, you watched as he ran a few steps backwards, waving goofily, all the while exclaiming.

"See you tomorrow!"

You did indeed see him the next day.

And the next.

The one after that as well.

Then the one after that.

A week after that too.

Not to mention the month after that.

Before you knew it Tooru had instilled himself as a permanent part of your life.

Within the next six months, you even began attempting *read: failing* to teach him how tennis works. But those conversations never went well.

Case in point, you now had Tooru over at your house, and you were watching the finals of a professional tournament. You were gasping and flinching and shouting at the player you were cheering for, while Oikawa looked totally mystified.

"Wait, why is it 15-0?"

"Because the server won the point." You replied tersely, zoned in on the match.

Oikawa furrowed his brow. "But she only won that one point! Right?"

"Yeah."

"So why does she get fifteen points, then!?" He demanded.

You rolled your eyes. "She didn't _literally_ get fifteen points. In tennis one point is called out as fifteen, and two points is called out as thirty."

"So it goes up by fifteen?"

"No. It goes fifteen, thirty, forty, game."

"Why!?"

"I dunno. That's just how it works."

Oikawa groaned in confusion. "Why does the umpire call out 'love' all the time?"

"Because love means nothing." You snapped, getting irritated, you wanted to watch your match! You stayed quiet whenever he was watching whatever college volleyball teams he wanted.

"WHAT!?" Oikawa clutched at his hair as he shouted this out.

You rolled your eyes double time. "Oh my god, Tooru, can I just explain this to you later?"

Oikawa shook his head rapidly. "No! How could you possibly say that love is nothing?"

You stared at him for a few moments before you burst out laughing.

He looked even more confused at his, his mouth hanging open slightly.

_I really don't see why everyone finds him so attractive. He's such a dork..._

You thought to yourself as your giggles subsided.

"Tooru, in tennis a score of zero is called love. For example, calling out 'love all' means that the game score is zero to zero. Same goes for the point score."

Tooru looked like his mind had just been blown. "Thats the stupidest scoring system I've ever heard of!"

You waved a hand in his face. "Shut up! It's set point!"

"What does that mean?"

"That she's about the win the set!"

"I figured that much! What's a set? Is it like volleyball?"

You shrugged offhandedly. "Sorta. Two sets for a match. Six games for a set. Four points for a game. Two outta three sets wins. Except for mens in Grand Slams, then it's three sets out of five. All with seven point tiebreakers. Simple."

"Not simple at all!"

_**Present time.** _

Not long after that, then future volleyball captain had asked you to be his girlfriend. He'd nearly passed out when you accepted.

Yet again, you had no clue why people that he was so amazing. He was a wonderful boyfriend, a good person, and a great player, but he certainly wasn't as smooth as everyone made him out to be.

Two girls from a different team walked by, you recognized there uniforms as the team the girl you were playing in the finals was from. You recognized them as girls who played 5 and 6, not very high on the line up at all.

"Look, it's that bitch from Aoba Johsai."

"You mean the Ice Queen?"

"No, no, she's the one that's screaming and fist pumping the whole point, she's more like the Queen of the Overdramatic."

"Our Captain will finish her no problem."

"Yeah, takes more than some fist pumps and icy stares to win a match."

The hateful giggles drifted to your ears and you felt a small pang in your heart. You didn't associate with your opponents during matches. It wasn't just hit and chit chat to you. You wanted to win, and you did everything you could do to so.

You narrowed your eyes and gritted your teeth.

Forget winning, you'd blow that damn captain off the court.

You glanced up when one of your teammates came jogging up.

"Captain! I just scouted your opponents results. Her return rate is horrible."

A wicked smile broke across your face.

"Weak returner?" You asked.

Your teammate nodded, well aware of how feared your serve was.

"How about her serve?"

"Looks like powder puff to me. I saw her playing at a minor tournament a few weeks ago. She's a mover, not a hitter."

You nodded.

"Thanks. And don't worry. I don't intend to drop a game."

You felt your blood boiling up as you waited for a court to open. This was a major tournament in the final rounds, so naturally, with both boys and girls playing it out at the same site, it would take a few minutes to get a court.

_Tooru said he was going to come to this match...he promised._

You blinked twice when that shot across your mind, then shrugged it off.

It was true, Tooru had never been able to come to any of your matches, with an infuriating line up that landed all of his matches and major practices on the days of your tournaments. You didn't mind. He'd come to a practice match once, but you hadn't been playing your best that day. You never played your best in practice. Everyone knew that. They always teased you for being the worst practice player on the team. And it certainly looked like that. Once the number 4 player on your team had beaten you in a quick set.

But of course, once a real match line up came to the plate, you were quick to demolish all of your teammates to take the number 1 spot on the team. You wondered briefly if Tooru would ever manage to get here in time. You recalled how you'd spoken over the phone the night before. You'd told him not to worry about it, there would be plenty of other times for him to see you play. He'd denied that, pointing out that if you lost this match there would never be another chance.

You said that you had no intention of losing.

He said he didn't have a doubt.

Your blood was boiling again. You had to win this match so you could give the setter you loved a chance to really see you perform at the national tournament. At any tournament, really. You'd be willing to entire a weak level four with zero point gain close to home if it meant that the setter would be able to see it. Even if you'd just wind up cleaning the clocks of everyone in the entire tournament.

You didn't care if it meant that you got to hear Tooru cheer you on.

"Aoba Johsai number 1 to the tournament desk."

You slung your racquet bag over your shoulder, picked up your water cooler, and strode towards the desk.

**_One hour later._ **

"Aoba Johsai wins the first set, six games to two"

"Let's go!" You roared, spinning on your heel and pumping your fist to the cheering of your team, they were going absolutely wild.

After all, it wasn't often that the captain aced herself an entire game.

You had to struggle not to grin, and when you saw those 5 and 6 players from earlier looking completely horrified at how their captain was getting dismantled, it became even harder.

Safe to say, you were having to the time of your life. It was something about playing at this level and totally dominating that just make your skin tingle.

So you hadn't managed to go without dropping a game as you'd originally planned, but you honestly didn't care, you were still taking everything you needed.

You were on return, now, and since your opponent was more of a runner than an offensive player, you were set to hit your steady return up the middle and then dominate from there.

The points flew like the wind. Your arms moved fluidly and your shoes screeched on the court.

You ripped a forehand cross court and your opponent dug it up. You saw victory flash across her face as the ball went spiraling up. She thought that she'd be able to get back in the point.

_If my serve is so good..._

You dropped back your shoulder and cocked your racquet into an overhead position, watching the ball drop down toward you like it was on a silver plater. That victorious expression dropped off your opponents face.

_...wouldn't my overhead be the same?_

You let out a loud breath of air in a grunt as you swung your racquet and slammed the ball downward, in hit the ground inside the service box and bounced so high it sailed above the back fence and into one of the opposite courts.

"15-40." The chair umpire called out.

"Come on! Let's go!" You screamed, pumping your fist as you looked back to your team. They were going completely mad, jumping up and down, clapping and calling your name.

You smiled into your towel at the back fence as you prepped mentally for the next point.

_Don't worry, guys._

You strode back to the baseline, hitting the backs of your shoes with your racquet frame, then crouching to tighten the brace around your ankle.

_I won't let you down again._

**_Three months ago._ **

"I'm the captain! I'm the number one player! This tournament is a huge chunk of points to go to nationals, I have to play!" You shouted, hurling your bag to the ground next to the benches before falling into the seat and kicking your left foot up onto the bench next to you, ripping off your shoe, you further tightened the brace on your bad ankle.

"You know it wouldn't be good for you, Captain. Please, if you injure yourself further you won't be able to play at any of the other major events. Rest. We can play someone else in the one slot."

"Yeah, but even so! It's my responsibility!" You cried out in fury, tears slipping down your cheeks.

Later that night you served at the courts, but ever time you landed, poised and balanced on your left leg, a sharp jolt of pain shot up your leg.

You forced your way through a basket of serves, the majority of them were weak and didn't even go in. You picked up and did it again. Half way through the second basket your ankle gave out when you landed and you fell to the green surface of the court.

"Damn it!" You roared as you rolled over and laid on your back, looking up at the pinkish clouds as the sun started the set.

"Having a hard time?"

You looked up to see Oikawa standing over you wearing his volleyball uniform sweats, sports bag over one shoulder.

"Not in the mood. Trash King." You growled.

Oikawa became more concerned then playful and sat down next to you.

"What's wrong?"

You sat up and pointed accusingly at your ankle. "That's wrong! It's all strained and dammit I can barely serve, how will I play in the tournament?"

You demanded, tears welling up in your eyes again.

The volleyball setter looked surprised, then glanced down at your ankle. "That's why you started wearing a brace?"

You sighed and drew your knees up.

"Yeah...I'm the number one player and this is my last year...it's my last chance to get to nationals..." You whispered.

Oikawa smiled softly. "I know the feeling."

"Shut up."

"Hey, just trying to make you feel better."

Oikawa sighed. "It does suck though. To think I wrangled with the coach to let me off practice this weekend for nothing. I was gonna come to your match. But you need to rest. That way I can come to watch you another time!"

He smiled brightly and you rolled your eyes and laid back onto the court again.

"Why can't we just stay in high school forever?" You murmured.

"Because life doesn't work that way." Oikawa replied.

"I wish it did." You mumbled.

"I don't." Oikawa said decisively.

You raised an eyebrow. "So, you don't want to play volleyball with your team forever?"

"Nope. If I did, then I wouldn't ever be able to ask you marry me."

"OY!" You sat up abruptly and Oikawa laughed at your bright red face.

"Kidding! Kidding!" He exclaimed.

You scowled at him as he stood up.

"Ok, only half kidding." He mumbled.

"What?" You were positive you'd heard him wrong.

"Nothing, nothing! Wanna go get something to eat? I'll help you pick up the rest of the balls." He suggested quickly to cover himself.

You raised an eyebrow at him but let it slide.

"Yeah, sure, let me just, ack!" You pushed up on your left leg to stand and instantly wound up on your rear again.

"I can carry you like my princess!" Oikawa, forever the excitable moron, suggested as he set your basket of balls to the side, full.

"In your dreams, you wish you were Prince Charming." You replied grumpily as you balanced your weight on your right foot and limped over to the bench. Sitting down heavily, you removed your ankle brace and put it back on again, retying the laces to support it better.

"That should do it...HEY!" You yelped as Oikawa swept you up off of the bench bridal style.

"Put me down, Trashykawa! I'm fine, it was just sore! No way are we walking down the street like this! What about my tennis bag!" You shouted before reaching down in an attempt to seize your beloved bag.

"I got it." Oikawa somehow crouched and snatched up your bag, slinging it over his other shoulder.

"You can't carry me, your bag and my bag all the way to the cafe, Tooru."

"Is that a bet?" He asked with a smirk on his face as he started towards the exit to the courts.

"Oh, totally...no, wait, no!" You cried as you realized that he would probably be dumb enough to do it.

"Too late! You agreed!" Oikawa laughed in victory.

You huffed and crossed your arms, you could see Oikawa was already having trouble and the shoulder he had your bag on was sagging.

"Geez, what is in your bag?"

"Three racquets, four visors, two exercise bands, one jump rope, three energy bars, two gummy snack packs, two notebooks, one novel, an umbrella, a rain poncho, a sweatshirt, a change of tennis clothes, a pair of jeans, a golf ball my grandfather gave me, a cool looking rock I picked up after I won my first tournament when I was ten, three headbands, a sewing kit, a list of tournaments for the tennis club, the line up for the club this year, and four cans of fresh balls."

You rattled off.

Oikawa's eyes bugged.

"How do you remember all that?"

You shrugged. "Victory comes to those who are prepared."

"For playing a match in a rain poncho? Doesn't tennis get canceled when it rains?"

"Duh, the courts get wet and slippery!" You exclaimed.

Oikawa frowned. "Then why have a rain poncho?"

"I had to use it once! It rained on match day and the awning at the tennis center wouldn't open up! I was the only one who stayed dry!"

"You are so OCD." Oikawa snickered.

You scowled at him.

A few moments passed in silence.

"The cafe is pretty far from here, Tooru. You're seriously going to carry me and my super heavy tennis bag all the way?"

"Yup."

**_Present day._ **

"Aoba Johsai leads, five games to two."

You sat down on the bench, drenched in sweat. It was a hot day, and you were playing to the best of your abilities. Other players might have relaxed, but you knew that was what could doom them to lose ahold of the match. You intended to go full throttle to the very end. Speaking of the end, it was very close, you could see it written across your opponents face. You couldn't have set it up better, up 6-2 5-2 and on serve in the finals.

It was a beautiful moment.

Your team was still cheering loudly, pushing you to finish it and push them into nationals.

You stepped up to the line and looked over at your opponent.

She was prepared to return, trying to intimidate you with a wide stance.

_Yeah, right._

Exhaling softly, you bounced the ball, and tossed.

"Ace. 15-0."

You pumped your fist and bounced on your toes, three more.

_Just three more._

The girl got your next serve back, and a powerful point ensued.

You pulled away from a forehand to soon and winced to see it go sailing long.

"15 all"

"Let's go!" Your opponent called weakly.

You knew it was a last-ditch attempt at getting into your head. Not that it bothered you. Mistakes were to be made, after all.

You bounced your ball again and exhaled, you realized your hands were shaking, adrenaline was starting to give out.

You tossed the ball and swung up with all the power you could muster.

The ball landed perfectly on the wide line and shot passed your opponent.

You took a breath to celebrate.

"Out!" The other girl shouted.

"What?" You demanded loudly as your teammates started booing and shouting in denial, they could easily see that your serve had been an ace.

You strode up to the net with your hands on your hips before turning and looking up at the umpire.

"Well?" You demanded of the woman.

The woman put up a finger.

"The ball was out."

Your teammates' booing intensified and several of them stood up and starting shouting.

Your mouth dropped open.

"You have got to be kidding me, that serve was dead on the line!" You cried.

"Second serve." The umpire ruled firmly.

You narrowed your eyes.

"Fine." You snapped before striding back to the baseline.

You turned back to see your opponent smirking slightly, thinking they'd gotten under your skin and still had a chance.

You tossed the ball and, second serve or no, crushed it yet again out wide.

The ball was inside the line and your opponent threw herself at it, actually tripping and falling onto her knees in the attempt.

"Bring it on! Let's go!" You crowed, fist shaking, and your team roared their approval.

"30-15." The umpire called.

Your opponent rolled over and sat behind the baseline looking shell-shocked at the second serve ace.

_Sorry, but you're a second year. You can live to play another day._

You went to the fence and took several deep heavy breaths. That hadn't been the smartest move, but impulse had gotten the best of you. You were only relieved that it had been worth it.

That was when you heard something rather odd.

"Who is that guy?"

"He's hot!"

"Wow, he's so dreamy..."

"Isn't he from Aoba Johsai?"

"Yeah! He's always on TV!"

"Wow, he's so nice, coming to support the tennis team."

You glanced to the side and saw Oikawa edging his way up to the fence.

His eyes darted around as he searched for what the score was and who was playing if he were on the correct court

Your boyfriend caught your eye and gave you a massive smile.

You were reasonably sure he was more pleased he was in the right place then he actually was to see you.

You dropped your towel and stepped back up to the baseline.

You slammed the serve at the body, and to your surprise, the return that came back was fairly impressive. You pushed back out of the way of it and took it on the rise, sending it to the opposite side of the court with heavy spin to pull it away.

The other girl chased it down and the exchange continued. You were certain you were past twenty balls in the rally when she tried to lob back a powerful shot of yours.

_Go time!_

You sprinted forward and spaced your feet, bending your knees, you ripped the ball with a forehand out of the air, crushing it down the line behind your opponent, who'd already started running for the cross court. She spun and got her racquet on it. You backed up as the ball spiraled over the net and landed an inch from the cord, it bounced up, and the girl backed up, thinking you were about the smash it.

You changed your grip at the last second and drop shotted the ball in the corner, it bounced twice before the girl could even get to the service line.

"40-15." The umpire called.

You headed back to your towel and saw that Oikawa was clapping along with the rest of the team, cheering excitedly.

You scowled when you noted several girls from other teams shamelessly checking him out. Of course, Oikawa was to busy watching your match to even notice.

You made a mental note to sucker punch all of them for looking at your boyfriend when you were done kicking ass.

You also caught Oikawa whispering to one of your teammates, another third year and a close friend of yours.

"That was good, right? Did she win that one? She didn't get in trouble for not letting it bounce?"

"Oikawa-san, you can take the ball directly out of the air if you want."

"But don't you have to use a different grip? The one under the racquet?"

"That's a volley, Oikawa-san. And no, she can hit the ball anyway she wants as long as she gets it in and the ball doesn't bounce twice."

You chuckled into your towel, if only those girls ogling the volleyball captain at the moment knew how completely clueless he was whenever he wasn't on a volleyball court.

You moved up to the baseline for what you intended would be the final time.

The final time for this match, not for your high school career.

You bounced the ball double the amount of times as usual and eyed the girl's stance.

_T...no wide...no...ok...lets go body._

You tossed the ball and swung with every bit of power you could possibly muster.

The ball moved faster than it ever had before, landing well inside the service box and causing your opponent to shriek before she dodged out of the way and barely caught the ball on her strings.

You were on top of the net before the ball left her racquet, the ball came right to you, and you stuck it straight down, it hit the ground two feet inside the singles line and flew into the side fence with the most wonderful, resounding clang.

"YES!" You threw you arms into the air, racquet clattering to the ground, chest heaving.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" You leaned back and shouted up at the bright blue sky, victory was yours. The season wasn't over yet. You'd just carried your team into nationals for the first time in ten years.

"We won! She won! She did it! Nationals!"

It was all you could do to force down laughter until you shook your opponent's hand.

"Congratulations." She choked out before hurrying to leave to court.

Your team, on the other hand, flooded the court, sprinting around the net posts, shrieking and crowding all around you. Hugging you and shaking you and laughing like maniacs.

"We're going to nationals! We're actually going to nationals!" You heard one of them exclaim.

"Of course we are!" You threw your arms around the two nearest people and started jumping up and down, the entire team locked arms and jumped together before you found yourself getting lifted off of the ground, two of the other third years, whom you'd been friends with for years, scooped you off of the ground and set you on their shoulders. The crowd cheered along, happy to see your team so beside themselves with joy.

"Ok! Ok!" You were still laughing, and you never wanted this moment to end, but you could see the umpire gesturing for your team to get off the court so they could put the next match on.

"We have to get off court, guys!" You called.

"Got it! Someone get our beloved Captain's bag! Forward march!" Your third-year friends were still carrying you off of the court.

"Guys! Come on!" You cried as you saw a first year picking up your things, and another first-year snatching up your cooler.

"That was amazing!" You looked down to see Oikawa come running up.

"Whoops, looks like it's time for some cheesy romance." You heard one of your friends' cough.

"Shut up. If you wanna carry me, then let's go to the tourney desk, I gotta check in my score and get my trophy!"

"TROPHY! You'll put it in the club room, right?"

"That's where all of our trophies go, remember?"

You all did just at, and after it all, once you finally convinced your team to disband and put you down, you gave a small pep talk about heading for the national stage before everyone started commenting on how amazing you'd played. Smiling and accepting the praise humbly, you enjoyed the next hour during which your team knotted around you, chattering, unable to stop hugging you, seeing as you'd saved their national dream, not only keeping it alive but fulfilling it.

Once everyone left, everyone planning on meeting at the practice courts the next day for a light practice, more for fun than for training, you sighed, a large smile on your face.

You didn't want to ride the train back all sticky with sweat, so you turned to get your bag, intent on changing.

"Boo."

You shrieked at an arm wrapping around your waist.

"Tooru! You're still here?" You exclaimed, looking shocked.

Oikawa shot you a charming grin.

"Indeed I am. I want to take my beautiful champion out for dinner."

You rolled your eyes.

"It wasn't all that. Nationals is gonna be way tougher."

Oikawa shook a finger in your face.

"You're supposed to be basking in the glow of victory, at least for a few hours before you get all training crazy for nationals!"

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're telling me this? The guy who went and practiced his serve for two hours directly after winning prelim semis?"

Oikawa chuckled.

"Touché." He relented.

You bent and scooped up your bag.

"I'll go shower, then we can go, ok?"

"Want company?" Oikawa asked, a suggestive smirk on his face.

"You wish, perv." You shot him down and his stuck his tongue out at your playfully.

"Hurry back!" He called after you.

Nationals weren't all that far away, and your brain screamed at you to start on line ups and tactics. But for tonight, you supposed, you could do things Tooru's way.

Even if he was being a total hypocrite.

You sped up your pace a bit, even if you didn't want to admit it, you would certainly be hurrying back.

**Author's Note:**

> That's all! Please drop a comment down below to let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!


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